Red
by Oxygen.and.Cucumber
Summary: Bella hated Edward, and Edward hated Bella. Or so she thought. Forced to work with him for the money, there's no escaping his anger, his resentment, and... his love. AH/AU EDITING IN PROGRESS: CHAPTER 1-4 DONE
1. Nightmares

**Red**

**Bella's POV**

The colour of hate, passion, embarrassment, danger, and love.

**Summary:**_Bella hated Edward, and Edward hated Bella. Or so she thought. Forced to work with him for the money, there's no escaping his anger, his resentment, and... his love._

**Inspiration:**_The ridiculous amount of Edward and Bella fluff on fanfiction. I could drown in it._

**Chapter 1**

**Nightmares**

_Monday, 8.30am_

"Mr Cullen," I said stiffly in recognition as I walked past his desk towards my office. My voice was cold – which didn't seem to take him by surprise. He nodded once, his eyes following the sharp click of my heels against the tiles of the office floor. His mouth was tight.

He didn't seem to be in a particularly good mood this morning, but then again... when was he ever? The papers in his hand were being held too tightly, the frown on his forehead looked almost permanent, and yet, watching him out of the corner of my eye as he stared hopelessly at his notes, he seemed lost.

"Miss Swan, I want your report on my desk by lunch time."

I flinched, my hand freezing before I could turn the handle of my office door. _He looked lost? _Fucking hell Bella. Sympathy is for those that deserve it. Try to remember that.

"You're kidding, right?" I snapped towards him. The bitterness I'd tried to restrain earlier spilled out of my mouth. Either needing this report was a matter of life or death, or he was just a man with the word asshole painted across his forehead in red letters.

Somehow, the latter seemed more probable.

"Lunch time Miss Swan," he reminded me, before turning back to his documents.

But once his back was turned, and his overly-casual, arrogant remark hit me, I wasn't letting him escape so easily. "Are you trying to kill me?" I asked bitterly as I twisted around to face him. "Because if so, you are doing a bloody good job of it."

I swear his eyes just laughed at me.

"Do you have a problem with that deadline?" His voice was too innocent, too... _caring_. He leaned forward on his desk – the gesture, instead of being reassuring, turned into one of mockery. Like he was pretending to care.

"I have issues with a lot of _things_." I implied, not breaking his gaze. "You gave me that report just two days ago and it's due in tomorrow evening. You've now moved the deadline to this morning, which is when I'm supposed to be attending an interview for the actual report." I paused to take a breath. "Yes, I have a problem with that deadline!"

"I changed your interview."

I needed to think rationally, and for that to happen, I needed to be calm. I couldn't shout at him for interfering with my work – and I certainly couldn't go use physical abuse without being sacked.

"You changed my schedule?"

"What's what I'm trying to tell you."

"Without asking me?"

He smiled virtuously. "I'm telling you now. You have an interview in..." he looked down briefly at his watch, "... just over twenty minutes. After that, _Michael_ wants to give you a speech on his report which you said you'd write for him." He chuckled once. "God knows why."

"You-"

He cut me off before I could finish. "And then you have, I'd say, around two hours to write, before the report is to be handed in, on my desk, at no later than 12 o'clock. Are we clear Miss Swan? Or is there something you don't _quite _approve of in your schedule?"

In his past life, he must have been related to Satan. Either that, or he had a fucking red tail shoved into the back of his trousers and a pitch fork hidden in the paper cabinet.

I unclenched my fingers slowly from the tight fist they'd formed into. Then, with a formal, tight lipped smile, I nodded to him. "The report will be on your desk at 11 o'clock – one hour earlier than you suggested. I'm then going to call the people in the interview, and cancel because I have all the information I need, so meeting up is unnecessary. Then, I'm going to take that time to finish writing your report _and _Michael's." My smile widened sweetly. "Is that alright Mr Cullen? Or is there something you don't _quite _approve of in my schedule?"

I didn't wait for his reply as I stormed into my office, slamming the door behind me.

_Another morning with the ever-so-charming Edward Cullen._

I threw my briefcase onto my desk and slumped in the chair. My eyes closed in frustration, and I reclined back, my right hand tangling in my hair.

He was a _nightmare_.

A living, breathing, walking, talking nightmare – and wherever I went, he was always just around the corner.

When I first joined Twilight Ltd, more commonly known as the Twilight Press, we'd immediately been put together as colleagues. According to our resumes, we sounded similar in nature and how we worked.

If you considered me to be an anti-social, temperamental, unpredictable, screw-loose freak of society, who couldn't treat you like a normal person for a day if they were asked to.

I'd tried to be polite and friendly. I'd offered to buy him a coffee when I bought mine in the mornings... help him go over reports if he wanted a second opinion...

Remembering when I first offered him a coffee in the morning wasn't always the easiest of memories for me.

_April 5__th__ 2008_

I was slumped in the office chair behind the desk. I'd been up at six in the morning to get the train into work, and then the taxi from the station. Last night hadn't been the best of nights to break up with – boyfriend of three months – Tyler either.

I slung the strap of my bag over my shoulder, and pushing open the door to my new office, I saw Mr Cullen sitting in the chair opposite. His eyes shot towards mine as soon as he heard my door close.

Less than five minutes ago, there had been two bodies on his office desk, clothes in piles around them, chests heaving over each other and their breathing in sync. He had been on top. Needless to say, it hadn't started my day off well – but then again, I had learnt to put up with things like that. It was the days that he didn't have someone pressed beneath him that surprised me.

"I was going to get a coffee from downstairs, and I wondered if you wanted one."

He stood up from his chair. His eyes were hesitant as he moved across the office floor towards me and his hands were stuffed deep in his pockets.

"I don't want coffee," he said firmly as he took another step in my direction. His eyes were calm as they stared straight back at me, green moulding into the hazel around the rim of his irises and his look was smouldering. I'd always prided myself on being a strong woman, one that couldn't easily be won over by charm alone, or a warm smile.

But if he took one more step, I swear my knees were going to buckle.

"I could tell you what I _do _want though."

I raised one eyebrow slowly, trying to keep my face calm. "What would you like?" my question came out trembling and I cursed internally. At the shaken sound, his eyes flashed towards mine. From the raw hunger burning in his eyes, it was a look that screamed danger, and one that was even more frightening; lust.

All I'd asked him was if he wanted a coffee.

"There was a woman in here earlier," he stated coolly. His eyes stayed quiet, like they were watching me – and yet the danger remained. "She was very beautiful.

"Well, no doubt you two will be very happy together." _Get yourself out of there Bella. _"Are you sure I can't get you a coffee?"

This was beginning to turn out like some rom-com movie that never hit off at box office. The random colleague that helped him to fall in love with the secretary from another floor, and all the while, falling more deeply in love with him...

All it needed was a bit of action, like the ceiling collapsing, him diving towards me, us lying side by side, pressed tightly against one another beneath the rubble...

My cheeks burned red again.

"She had high black shoes on," his tongue darted out of his mouth and swept across his lips. As his eyes rose slowly back to mine, I knew I'd been caught watching. "Long brown hair that fell down to the middle of her back... a white blouse..."

He took another step towards me.

He didn't care about what I'd seen earlier – from the _situation _I'd found him in. He'd been on the verge of sex in the middle of his work building, for me to walk in on the act.

And he didn't care?

It should have bothered me.

But at the moment as he tried to seduce me, I knew if I didn't stop him, then very soon he was going to succeed.

"Sorry I can't help you," I smiled tightly. Then I quickly turned around to face the elevator, hiding my burning cheeks from him. Before I could catch my breath, he was directly behind me, his hands gripping my waist.

He wasn't allowed to do that... _was he?_

"Are you sure there isn't _anything _you could help me with?" he asked. His voice was too innocent, too casual. When he leaned towards me, pressing himself against my back – my thoughts turned sour.

"I'm sure." I pushed him away forcefully. His charm broke in an instant as confidence flooded through me. "Although, now that I think about it, the woman down at reception seemed more than willing."

"Who?"

I paused, trying hard to hide a smile. My determination to withstand his flirtatious comments left him confused "I forgot for a minute that you're the type of person who uses so many woman you can't remember their names." I laughed quietly. "Forgive me."

At the sound of my laughter, his mood changed dramatically. His hands fell away from my waist. He took a step back. His heels clicked dangerously against the tiles, and his eyes hardened, growing much colder than I could have imagined.

"You know _nothing _about me."

He was unpredictable. One day he would be hostile and angry at me for reasons I couldn't fathom. Other days, he pranced around the office like God sent him to Earth to charm the clothes off every woman he found.

Most of the time, he was easy to tune out. I did the reports he assigned me to do, I handed in the projects needed for print, I spoke to the boss on his behalf when I had to...

Of course, it wasn't easy all the time. Especially not when you begin to notice how astonishingly attractive he is. It's practically impossible to summon up the anger you had when he wasn't in front of you if, all the while you're yelling at him, you're watching the way his dark green eyes bore into yours with such an intense power. Or how his cheekbones, now tensed and strained with fury, become even more pronounced against the harsh, cheap light of the office...

A loud knock at my door shot through my ears like a bullet.

The sound made me jump in my seat, unbalancing myself. I never had the perfect sense of equilibrium in the first place, so when I tried to sit back down again, I missed, landing directly onto the floor.

The person at the door opened it without permission.

"Seats are for sitting on Miss Swan," Edward stated, his voice smug and his eyes warm. As he leant against the door frame, watching me stumble back to my feet, his lips formed into a tight line as he tried to suppress his laughter.

"You surprised me," I muttered, my cheeks flushing pink. As I sat back on my seat, I smoothed down the creases of my skirt. His eyes never left me.

"Well, I should surprise you more often. You don't understand how appallingly delicious your legs look when your skirt is hitched up high by your thighs."

The chair scraped across the floor painfully as I stood up suddenly. I was tired, and frustrated, and didn't have the patience to deal with his mood changes, let alone his snarky comments. Only a moment ago, he'd been bombarding me with work. Now he'd turned on the charm.

"Get out of my office Mr Cullen."

He grinned as he walked towards my desk. "And I was just getting started..." he paused, his voice lighter than usual. "I came to give you these." He threw a large yellow file down on my desk. "They're from Michael Newton. Although I was under strict orders from him that you should know him as _Mike_." He winked at me. "His number's on the back of the file."

Then, he turned around and walked back out of my office.

I never knew what to think with him.

Arrogance and egotism were things I dealt on a daily basis – they were something I grew used to. He was the type of person that spent half of his time admiring his own reflection in the mirror, and the other half he spent finding women to take back to bed. In my opinion, he'd reached some sort of _frame of mind_ – where he believed that every woman he met was begging for him just based on his looks alone.

Nearly every secretary in the building has 'claimed' to have slept with him, and whether or not that is true, I don't have a clue. But I never want to find out.

That said, sharing a level with him isn't always the best situation for that wish to come true. I can hear his phone calls through the thin walls of the office, just as he can hear every single one of mine.

Mostly, it's just frustrating. Like when you're trying to have an important conversation with your mom, and after a while, you ask casually how Phil is – my step dad of five years – and on the other side of the door Edward replies, _he was so great that I'm going back tomorrow and I'm going to pay him double._

Intrusions aside, I just wish there was a way I could tell how he would react. One minute he's mad at you, and the next he's pulling out cheesy pick up lines that make your toes curl, or complimenting on how _delectable _you look.

I pulled myself away from my thoughts with a shudder, before turning towards the yellow file on my desk. The article didn't look too difficult; just a few hundred words to write which would hopefully satisfy Newton.

As I got up from my chair to grab a fresh set of printer paper from the cupboard, my foot caught against the desk. Apparently poise wasn't a quality of mine that was shining today. I managed to right myself before I fell over totally, but the file in my hand flew into the floor.

"Damn it," I cursed – louder than I had intended to. My toe was throbbing, and as I tried to grab it with my hand, hoping to soothe the pain a little, I almost fell over again.

Someone outside laughed.

He thought it was funny that I'd hurt myself? "You know what they say about eavesdroppers." I called loudly, and he opened my office door in reply.

"You're interesting to listen to," he retorted as he watched me begin to pick up the file I'd dropped on the floor. Never once did he make the slightest movement to help – but then again, he was Edward Cullen. What was I supposed to expect?

At his comment, I smiled all too innocently towards him. Then, as I dumped the large yellow file onto my desk with a thud an idea flashed through my mind.

I turned my back to him and reached for the phone. "If that's what you really think..." I trailed off, not bothering to finish my sentence as I flipped over the file from Michael Newton.

The phone rang for a few moments, before someone on the other end of the link picked up, offering a few words in greeting. I tried not to think about the fact that the girl I was speaking to was probably on Edward's list of women.

"Hello, is _Mike_ there?" I emphasised his name loudly, making sure Edward could hear. "This is Bella Swan. I was just calling to see if he has a free moment in his schedule. There are a few questions I have about the file he sent over, and I'd love to meet up with him if he's available. Is it possible for you to arrange a time when we could have lunch together?"

My office door slammed shut.

Outside, the silence was broken by Edward's footsteps, and then the groan of a chair, creaking under the pressure as he slumped against it. If I listened close enough, I could hear the sound of papers being dropped as he tried to file them, and all the while trying to restrain the anger that was rising up inside of him.

I could just imagine his face.

"Oh, tomorrow sounds lovely," I said sweetly to his secretary, sugar-coating my voice. "Thank you so much for doing this, I really appreciate it." Then I turned back to my desk, and the garish yellow file.

It was time to tackle Edward's report.

_Tuesday, 8.30am_

Yesterday hadn't been the easiest of days.

When I told Edward I'd do the report in time for lunch, my arrogance had gotten the better of me. As soon as I was sat in front of that desk, the blank computer screen in front of me, I only then realised the shit I'd dived into. Head first. Eyes open.

Of course, he didn't have to know that I'd barely finished the report before I handed it in on the dot of twelve, and I was hardly going to tell him.

The elevator rang, telling me that I'd reached floor twelve.

My morning ritual of taking a deep breath to mentally prepare myself to face another day with Edward Cullen was longer than usual. Perhaps so because of yesterday. But before I could dwell on that fact, a voice in the office foyer distracted me from my thoughts.

"She's not interested in you. There, I spelt it out for you. Now leave."

A second voice answered. "She called my secretary to arrange a lunch date. You don't get more _obvious _than that."

_Fuck_. I cursed silently to myself as I bit down hard on my lip. From the gist of their conversation, it was easy to guess who was talking, and exactly who was standing next to Edward Cullen demanding... well, I didn't want to think about what he had said before I'd intruded.

I hoped, for his sake, that he was good-looking.

I knew that I'd only called Newton to piss of Edward, and at the time, it had seemed like a damn good idea. But my plan seemed to have backfired. As it turns out, in order to _piss off _Edward, I actually have to go on that lunch date.

"As much as I love you both, there's no need for you to fight over me," I said sweetly as I stepped into the office, alerting them both of my presence.

Their reactions were so different to each other's that it was almost comical. Edward's face turned from surprised, to anger in the space of five seconds. His widened eyes glazed over; hardening. Then he fell back into his seat, his arms crossed too tightly over his chest.

Newton's eyes lightened up instantaneously as they met mine. He leaned further against Edward's desk, his posture casual and welcoming, and his body turned distinctively towards mine. But my heart couldn't help but sink as I saw him. He was attractive – in the baby-faced, blonde haired, blue eyed sort of way.

If you could get past the pitiable, half puppy-dog, half adorning look coming from his ever watching gaze. To say that it would get on my nerves was an understatement.

"Hey Isabella," he grinned cheekily, his eyes warm. I didn't bother to correct him about my name.

I returned the smile, only with slightly less enthusiasm. "I finished writing your report yesterday, but there are just a few things I want to go over and check because I'm not happy with them, so I'll have it on your desk by the end of the day." As I moved towards my office, he moved with me.

"That's great."

As I stopped outside my door and I was nearly ninety nine percent convinced Edward was still staring at me.

"So, what are you doing today? Don't you have reports to type up?" A life to get on with? A dog to feed? A paper cabinet to stare at? Anything?

_Please? _

"Not this morning," he said brightly. "I'm completely free, and I thought maybe... that we could arrange that lunch date?" his voice hesitated briefly, but his eyes remained calm. Had I touched his palms, I wouldn't have been surprised if they were dripping with sweat.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Edward watching my expression through the reflections in the glass windows. It was a pity I couldn't see his face when Michael said the word _date_.

"Sure," I said, my words spilling out too quickly. "I have to get some work done first. But how about I call you when I'm finished?" I managed to avoid answering his question directly. This lunch date I was forcing myself through would be on my terms.

Luckily for me, he didn't notice my reluctance, and he smiled back all too willingly.

"That'd be great, thank you!"

"Okay New- _Mike_. I'll see you later then."

He smiled one last time, before putting his hands into his pockets contentedly. "I'll see you too Isabella."

As the elevator doors closed behind him, the monster that I'd come to know as Edward Cullen decided to release himself on the world.

"It's Bella," he hissed loudly, his hands gripping the sides of his desk. At his reaction, I turned to him, stunned. I'd expected him to yell at me – question my sanity – ask why I'd even bothered to write his article. But instead, he was picking on _Mike_.

"What the hell are you on?" I asked quietly, and I leaned against my door frame, watching him.

"He's insipid.

"So are you."

At my comment, his nose scrunched, and his eyes tightened. The glare I came to expect was never far away. "I thought you were better than him."

_Better than him? _Comments like that usually meant, well... "Oh," I said quietly, and before I could stop myself, I laughed. Better than him. Thinking about it only made me laugh harder, and I quickly made it into my office.

Before I could shut the door behind me, Edward caught it.

"Miss Swan," he said through gritted teeth. His voice was barely inches away from mine, his breath hot against my shoulder. "I wish you wouldn't laugh at me. Now... explain."

He was standing too close for me to think coherently. I could smell the scent of his cologne – not too powerful, and yet still noticeable. Just the right balance. The kind of balance that made you want to get closer... perhaps to see if he tasted as good as he looked.

"You're jealous." I coughed quickly. If I didn't pull myself away from my thoughts, things were going to turn dangerous.

I smoothed out my features as I made my way towards my desk and sat down, now fully composed.

There was a short silence, then, Edward finally spoke, his voice quiet. "You're wrong."

I couldn't help but laugh again. "_She's not interested in you_," I tried to imitate his voice, the corners of my lips twitching into a smile. At the gesture, his eyes became colder. "You're jealous that he's managed to get me to say yes, where you've been failing for the last few years."

"The difference is merely what you're saying yes to."

"Implying anything there Mr Cullen?" I asked brightly. "Because if you were, let's just say that I certainly wouldn't have a problem saying yes if _he _were to ask. You, still remain to be a different matter."

I cleared my throat. I was in control of this situation, and it was going to stay that way if I had anything to do with it. "Now, as much as you like me Mr Cullen, I do in fact have a lot of work to do. So I'd appreciate it if you weren't in my office." I glanced up towards him sweetly. "As much as I enjoy your company, I don't want the honour at the moment."

"What made you think I was going to stay?" his retort was laced with anger. I could sense the resentment he kept bottled up inside of him – the hatred – the animosity – the hostility... Just one look in his eyes said it all.

It was almost sad if you really thought about it.

"Goodbye Mr Cullen."

"I have another report for you."

I sighed in frustration, my attempts to get him out of my office failing. "I really don't have the time. Now please leave."

"I have another report for you," he repeated, telling me through his words that this wasn't something he was going to let drop.

This was the bad side to our relationship in the office. Technically, he was my boss – although it had never been, and never would be that way. We both wrote reports. He collected them together, and sent them up to print. But since he'd been here far longer than I had, he'd been given the duty of handing out the reports.

Supposedly he handed them out _equally_. But ever-so-recently, I'd been questioning that.

"If you're just trying to bombard me with work so I can't go on my lunch _date_, then don't bother. You're going the wrong way about it."

"I'm not trying to stop you." His voice stayed calm, _too _calm for my liking. His eyes just kept watching me – waiting for a reaction of some sort. One which I wasn't going to give him. "But it's a report I need done."

As usual, I decided to be the bigger person. "Well, leave it in my box and when I _have _got the time, I'll have a look at it."

"Thank you." His voice was grateful, and that scared me. My eyes darted up to his in surprise. "It would mean a lot to me if you could. It's an easy write for you – only five thousand words. Thanks Bella, I owe you." He smiled warmly, before turning and shutting the door to my office.

"It's _Isabella _to you!" I shouted after him. _Bastard._

Five thousand words?

If the work load he gave me didn't eventually kill me, my stress levels would. The report for Michael was a maximum of three hundred words. Maximum! And he wants me to write just under 17 times that much because?

Why the hell was I still working for him?

_Money, Bella. _I reminded myself dryly.

Ever since my mom had got married, things hadn't been looking too good for us. I'd managed to graduate, and get a decent grade from university. After that I'd found my own place. It wasn't much – just a small apartment a few blocks away from work. But I'd always known that straight after school, I had to go straight into a job.

That was how life had always been. Working, paying rent, working, paying rent...

My mom was barely getting by at home. With dad in a completely different state, there wasn't a chance of them getting back together. She had a new boyfriend; Phil. He was nice... I guess. A little too loud and he ate too much, but he kept my mom on track.

I sighed, tipping the pot of pencil shavings in the bin.

I had to keep thinking about the future. Maybe when I had enough money – enough to support myself properly – I could leave this job and find somewhere else. Hopefully with colleagues who actually appreciated the work I did.

A knock at my door jogged me from my thoughts, and I turned my focus back to the article in front of me. "Come in."

The door opened, and Edward stepped into my office, his voice timid. "I just wanted to borrow some printer paper."

"Be my guest," I gestured towards the cupboard, whilst not looking up from my desk. The report in front of me was in a larger font than I'd expected – size fourteen at a guess – which on first glance made it look amateurish. I was only hoping that the rest of it proved me wrong.

My heart sank when instantly I could see there was something not quite right with it. I took the dreaded highlighter from the draw, and began underlining sentences which needed changing. Unfortunately for the author, that meant most of them.

"Mr Cullen, who wrote this article?" I asked, finally looking up from the report towards him. He was deeply engrossed with two piles of paper; the cream coloured, and the white.

"Hmm?"

"The report," I lifted it up to his vision. "Who wrote it?"

"Oh, right, the report," he dropped the papers suddenly. "A novice down on level four I think. Apparently it was for page thirty four if that explains everything." He turned back towards the cupboard quickly.

_Emily Dawkins – fourth time winner of Michigan's summer beauty pageant – last saw her dog in her back garden, beneath the tree house._

Because everyone knows where Michigan's summer beauty pageant lives.

_This is a tragic situation for her to be in, as this dog is something she considers to be a good luck charm. If you have seen the dog – which she has described a brown and white spotted animal that smiles when you look at him, please call this number. _

It smiled? A dog _smiles_?"

"Mr Cullen, do you think it's possible for a dog to smile?" I asked him again as I glanced up from my paper. But he wasn't looking at the stationary in the cupboard anymore. He wasn't deciding between two colours of paper.

He was staring at my legs.

Before I even thought over my actions, I took the rubber from the pot in front of me, and threw it at his head. My aim had never been good before, but somehow, by some miracle, it hit him in the forehead.

"Hey!" he shouted as he lost his balance and fell backwards onto his ass.

"Get out of my office."

He stumbled to his feet, his eyes angry. "I haven't got my paper!"

"Well, how about you tell me what paper you want? I'll find it, and then I'll come and give it to you. That way, you don't have to spend a good half an hour sat holding two different colours of paper in your hand, and I don't have to listen to you breathe."

"If I'm _that _much of a nuisance, why do you even work here?" he retorted.

"How should that be any of your business?" I pushed past him and moved to pick up the papers that were now scattered on the floor around him. If he wasn't such a conceited asshole –

"You know, when you bend down like that..."

"Will you stop?" I shouted, surprising even myself at the tone of my voice. I stood up straight again, and slammed the papers I'd picked up into his chest. "Stop with all the innuendos and the stupid flirting. I don't like you!" I couldn't help but notice how his hair caught the sunlight. "Especially when you yell at me, then give me a ridiculously long report with an absurd deadline, and then comment on how good my legs look!"

I took a deep breath, struggling to calm myself down. It was only then that I realised my hand was still against his chest, and I dropped it quickly. "I'm going to say it again. Get out of my office Mr Cullen."

"No."

Silence filled the gap between us. His short answer left me shocked. He was stubborn – I'd always known that – but so was I. And I sure as hell wasn't used to replies like that. "Are you kidding me?"

"You don't understand _me _Miss Swan. Well... I don't understand _you_."

"I don't want you to understand me," I said angrily. "I just want you to get the hell out of my office. How can one person be such an _asshole_?"

Quick as a flash, his hand darted out and caught my wrist. He pulled me closer towards him, his eyes darkening and my breath caught in the back of my throat. "Don't you _dare _talk to me like that."

"Get your hand off me," I breathed quickly, my eyes wide with _fear_. Edward Cullen pissed me off, he frustrated me, he made me want to smash my hand into the paper cabinet at times, but never, and I mean _never_, had he made me feel afraid.

His eyes, now black as the night, met mine for a short moment, and his grasp immediately loosened.

"I'm sorry," he muttered quickly, before turning on his heel and walking straight out of my office. Leaving me standing in a sea of white and cream papers.

**AN – **This story was originally forty chapters, and with two months of intense editing, it changed drastically. I wanted to write this because I was tired of the amount of fanfiction stories that wrote about Edward and Bella fluff. As predictable as fanfictions are these days, you know that eventually I'm going to cave. But for the time, I'm holding out as long as possible.

To all my readers, I value you so much. Without you, I don't have the drive to finish stories like that. And its stories like these that help me to improve my writing.

If you've just started reading this story now, I hope you enjoy it.

**Reviews = Cookies**


	2. Apologies

**Chapter 2**

**Apologies**

* * *

_Tuesday, 1.40pm_

Once I'd cleared up the papers, I was pissed off. Inevitably. Edward Cullen always seemed to bring out the worst in me.

I needed to get out of the office – away from him – away from the work, and thankfully, I knew the best way to go about that.

"Hey Mike," I said sweetly down the phone, no longer having to fake my smile. Meeting up with him gave me a free pass away from Edward. "I was wondering if we could still meet up for lunch."

"Seriously?" he asked, his voice bubbling with excitement. I could imagine his bright blue eyes widening with enthusiasm. It was a pity I didn't like him that way... maybe we could be _friends? _"Do you want me to come up to your level now?"

"No, it's fine Mike. Besides, I need to get out of the office." I said truthfully, the words sounding even more real than before out loud. "What level are you on again?"

"Seven."

"Ok, I'll see you in a few,"

"You too," he said warmly as the phone clicked on the other end of the line. I grabbed my coat from the back of the door, and locked the office, not wanting Edward to go in there to get some more _paper_.

"Don't get run over," Edward muttered under his breath as I turned towards the elevator. He thought I didn't hear him. But my expression didn't change. I was going to leave this office calm, and have a quiet lunch with Newton with no sarcastic remarks or degrading comments.

"I'll try not to," I called back lightly, pressing the button on the elevator. Finally, I was getting away from him.

Or so I thought.

"Miss Swan, wait." He called after me suddenly as I willed the elevator doors to shut faster. I couldn't talk to him now – not after what he'd done and what he'd said. I couldn't deal with any more of his petty anxieties and insecurities that he chose to take out on me. Edward slipped into the elevator as the doors shut behind him.

"I just wanted to apologize."

I laughed bitterly, my thoughts darkening. He wanted to apologize to me – after what he _purposely _caused – and would likely cause in the future. He wasn't sorry for what he'd done. If he was, he'd stop. "Again?"

He chose to ignore my comment, instead using the time we had trapped in the elevator together to his advantage. "So, you and Mike huh?"

_Was he honestly trying to start up a conversation with me? _"No," I replied seriously, ignoring how his shoulders relaxed a little at the word. "It's possible for a male and female to know each other, and not be head over heels in love with each other."

Edward's expression turned sour. "It's also possible for one person to be in love with another and the other to be completely oblivious." His eyes met mine, and I was shocked by the sincerity within them. All traces of humour were gone.

Had I arrived earlier this morning, would I have heard more? "You think Mike's _in love _with me?" I asked in horror, my mouth open wide. He didn't know a thing about my relationship with Mike, let alone what Mike felt. After one assumption that he wanted to spend time with me, Edward had jumped to conclusions. Conclusions he had no right to make.

_You have now arrived on level seven._

As the doors opened on Mike's floor, I met his eyes once more, my eyes cold. "What the hell would you know about love?"

Edward was infuriating. It was almost as if he made up situations just like these, so that later on in the day he could apologize to me. Maybe he had some weird fetish about apologizing to women. God knows, it would have to be a pretty convincing reason.

I didn't bother to spare a half-hearted goodbye to Edward was I stepped out of the elevator. It was because of him that I was angry. It was because of him that I was trying to get away from the office. And it was because of him that I was staring at Newton's name on an office door. This plan was falling apart by the second.

"Hello, I'm here to see Mike Newton," I said to the receptionist, my eyes glancing around the office briefly. It wasn't as refurbished as the one I'd been assigned to, and there weren't as many cabinets as the others I'd seen. It was almost too bare.

The receptionist glanced at me, her eyes raking up and down my attire. For some strange reason, it felt like she was sizing me up.

I wasn't used to feeling intimidated.

"I'll just call him in," she said with her frown, her lips pushing forward into a pout. With a flick of blonde hair, and a scratch of nails against the telephone, she spoke quietly into the speaker. Just looking at her, I couldn't help but wonder if she was one of the many secretaries on Edward's list. Had she slept with him? Had she been cruelly thrown away afterwards and never received even a text to explain why?

I'd given up trying to paint a pretty picture of Edward's character a long time ago.

"Isabella, how have you been?" his voice called across his squeaky clean office floor. I still wasn't going to correct him about my name. It seemed to get on Edward's nerves, and the more Mike managed to do that, the better.

Mike had combed his hair back with what looked like water, and had he been cast in a vampire movie, it would have worked. All he needed was a tux and blood dripping from his mouth. Coming back down to reality, a hairstyle which on anyone who knew the slightest thing about style might look classy and sophisticated, on him it made him look like he'd barely hit puberty.

"I've been great, thanks," I said quietly, offering a timid smile as he gestured towards the elevator with me. I noticed he didn't even spare a glance towards the expectant receptionist. His eyes were glued to mine.

"So, where did you want to go?"

"There's a café just around the corner from here, if you'd like that." I looked his way, offering another smile. The café that just happened to be below our office... the one which you could see if you were looking out the window.

He nodded enthusiastically as he mirrored my smile. "So, how's work going?" he tried to start up a conversation, but that was the one topic I wanted desperately to avoid.

"It's not," I said with a grimace. "But please don't ask me about that. I've looked at more articles this morning than I ever will this year." That was a lie. I touched the one for page thirty four – and that was it. But he seemed content to lap the words up.

"How about this one then... what's Edward like as a colleague?"

"He's a headache," I laughed dryly.

"Yeah?" Mike questioned with a smile in his voice. Suddenly, for some strange reason, Newton was very happy with himself – or rather, my answer. Did he think that I _liked _Edward?

The thought made me want to vomit.

"He thinks far too much of himself," I pointed out, answering Mike's silent question. "And his arrogance gets in the way of work, which is seriously infuriating."

Mike didn't ask press for any more answers on the way to the café. His conversation remained mutual – thankfully. As we reached the small cottage-like building, he held the door open for me. Inaudibly, I groaned. If before I had any doubts about this plan, now, I realised the situation I'd gotten myself into.

"What can I get you?"

"Just a coffee would be good," I said politely as I took my seat on one of the small tables by the window. I'd been so stupid. Going on a date with a man I didn't want to be with, or finishing Edward's report so I didn't have to spend hours doing it at home... The choice was an obvious one, and I'd been a fool not to pick it.

As Mike returned, he slid the coffee across the table towards me. He made sure that our fingers brushed against each other in the gesture, and I swear his smile increased as his hand touched mine.

"I don't think I can say thank you enough for the report you sent me," Mike began as he took his seat opposite me. "Our level was slightly short staffed that week." I smiled in reply as I cupped my hand around the coffee. The warmth of the drink seeped into my fingers. As I raised my mouth slowly to the rim, I couldn't help but notice how Mike's eyes were fixed on my lips.

As I set the cup down on the table, I smiled once more. "Anything to help out a friend."

* * *

_Tuesday, 2.30pm_

"I really enjoyed that," he said warmly as the elevator finally reached my level. "It was nice to get to know you a little better."

I only nodded in reply. In all honesty, I had enjoyed myself more than I'd expected too. He was a really nice guy – a good person – and I hated that I was leading him on. It was uplifting just to talk to someone without having to worry about work, or reality. I could talk to him without worrying that he wouldn't change into a different person suddenly.

"Do you think... we could do it again sometime?"

"Of course," I returned his smile. "With the hours I do here, I'm always in need of a coffee."

_You have now arrived on level seven._

"I'll call you sometime."

"Looking forward to it," I said eagerly as he stepped onto his office floor. As the elevator doors shut, his eyes stayed glued to mine, his stare too adorning for that of two friends.

Then, it was just me and my thoughts.

The elevator door continued to climb up to level twelve, and I finally allowed myself to reflect on everything. Mike was a nice guy. Not one I'd want to date – but he made me laugh. So did I continue to meet up with him, just to talk? There was only so long before he made his move and what then? Would turning him down mean I'd lose him as a friend? But what I found most confusing wasn't my situation with Mike. It was with Edward. It was almost comical how protective he became of me meeting up with Mike when he wouldn't even smile, or acknowledge that I'd entered the room. He had no right to question Mike's reasons, or convince me not to see him.

And yet he still tried.

_You have now arrived on level twelve._

I stepped out of the elevator, my thoughts filled with dread at the mammoth report I had to write for Edward and hadn't even started. But as I rounded the corner, my thoughts changed entirely.

Every muscle in my body froze as I stared at the couple in front of me.

* * *

_Tuesday, 3.25pm_

For a moment, time stood still. Then reality crashed down on me.

Edward's shirtless body was draped across the desk, his papers and files scattered across the floor. On top of him was a woman, lying between his legs. His hands were wrapped around her so tightly I could see his fingers digging into the sides of her waist. As his lips attacks hers once more, his hand moved from her waist to her thigh.

_I bet he didn't even know her name._

It wasn't my business, I reminded myself as I bit back my anger. I sidestepped around the table, trying not to jog the two – who clearly hadn't noticed me. I fumbled around in my pocket for the key, but when I tried to slot it into the door, it slipped out of my hand. The painful clink of the metal hitting the tiles sent the room into a deathly silence.

Edward's eyes flashed up from the girl's face. Across the room, his face twisted as his gaze met mine, and for a moment, I saw remorse flash through his eyes.

Then it was gone. The woman beneath him wrapped her hand around his cheek and pulled his lips back to hers.

I slammed the door to my office a lot harder than I probably should have done. But in all fairness, there were two people practically having sex on an office desk together outside my door, and I had to listen. This was the time when I hated how thin the walls were.

I had two files sitting opposite me; the one on the latest fad, and the other was Edward's 5,000 word report. A hoarse, rasping moan on the other side of the door told me which one I'd picked. _I wasn't going to be the bad guy, _I smirked to myself as I picked up Edward's report. As he'd said... it was an easy write. An hour later however, and my mind was telling me otherwise. I'd written just over half of what was required, and already I wanted to put a final full stop at the end and write it off for print. Somehow, I had to find a way to double what I'd already written.

Maybe if I started changing the 'it's' to _it is..._

There was a knock on my door, and I looked up from my report gratefully – for once, thankful for the distraction. As Edward stepped through the door, I slid my work glasses off my nose.

"Tanya and I are going out together – we won't be long," he said briskly, almost like he was doing his upmost best to keep his message as short as possible. "Is that alright? Or do you want me to send up some staff from level two?"

_I'm impressed Cullen. You know her name. _"No, that's fine." I said politely back as I pushed the report I was working on into his line of sight. "I was just finishing the report you asked me to write for you." The words froze on his tongue. I waited for his snarky remark, perhaps an insulting, unfriendly comment about how it should have been finished sooner.

But nothing happened.

"I'll be back in an hour." His words were stiff, and he turned his back quickly as he made to close the door on himself.

"Mr Cullen?" He paused in the doorway, not even bothering to turn around. By the way his hand gripped the door too tightly, I could sense his impatience. Luckily for him, I wasn't planning on keeping him in my office for much longer.

"I just wanted you to know that you're a hypocrite." I couldn't help the smile that spread across my face. "You can leave now."

He barely let my words sink in before he slammed the door shut behind me.

* * *

_Tuesday, 5.10pm_

I'd almost finished Edward's report, only two hundred words left, when I heard a pair of footsteps on the office floor. They sounded lethargic and most definitely male, which translated as 'Edward was back'. This was usually where he would open my door to argue with me. Either to have a go at me for something I said earlier, or accuse me of being something I'm not. My door opened – without a knock – and I smiled to myself, waiting patiently for his insult. What would it be this time?

_Thank you for dropping the key on my 'session' with Tanya. Thank you for disturbing my 'work'. Thank you for ruining my 'conversation' with Tanya. Couldn't you be more careful next time? – It's not hard to hold onto a key._

"I'm not a hypocrite."

He'd chosen the one thing I felt completely confident arguing. This was going to be easy. "Mike's _insipid _is he? Then what's Tanya?" I glanced up towards him, and I saw his blank, vacant expression staring back. His eyes were void of emotion. "You thought that I could do better than Mike. Well, at least I didn't _use _him. At least I didn't kiss him for the sake of it. Better even, at least I _know _him."

Edward shook his head, his jaw tight, like he was biting back the words he longed to say. He opted for a more subdued version. "Her favourite colour's pink. She likes roses and the smell of candles. Her birthday is November 4th." As he listed off each insignificant detail, I only saw his poker face staring back at me. He was lying.

"Your favourite colour's green," I rose my eyebrows towards him, daring him to disagree with me. "You like white orchids and the smell of strawberries. Your birthday is June 20th, and you'll be twenty three next year."

From across the room, he didn't say a word. I could almost smell the victory.

"Does that mean I like you?" Does that mean I _know _you? That I would be willing to talk to you?" I laughed dryly, before turning back to the report I was working on. I waited for him to leave, my eyes staring at the words in front of me, and yet never taking anything in.

"How..." he trailed off, his eyes wide with confusion. "How did you know I liked the smell of strawberries?"

I didn't look up as I answered. "When I found my shampoo in your desk drawer."

His eyes turned cold. "You looked through my drawer?" he was angry, so suddenly once again, that he hadn't even let my words sink in properly.

"You stole my shampoo?" And his face froze at my question. He immediately grew silent. "That's what I thought." I laughed again. For someone who thought so much of themselves, it must be demoralizing to lose an argument. Especially to a woman.

"My favourite colour isn't green." He said finally. "It's brown."

_Thanks for letting me know_, I tried to suppress a smirk. He really wanted me to get to know him. Maybe he was trying to paint a better image of himself just to prove me wrong and finally get me to say yes. Although there was no chance in hell I was ever consenting to being with him. He still hadn't left yet.

"Because it's the colour of your eyes."

When he finally did leave, I was speechless. I looked up to the empty space where he'd just been, my thoughts whirring in confusion. _The colour of my eyes? _He really did want my forgiveness. He'd thrown away all the cheap, substandard compliments and had opted for the romantic, heart-melting, you're-making-me-want-to-throw-up compliments.

I turned back to the report, hoping to finally get the last words done, but I couldn't concentrate. _Did Edward think that I'd kissed Mike? ... was Tanya there because he actually wanted her? _Bella, focus. _Maybe she was there because he wanted to make me jealous too..._

Bella, be serious. Why in the world would he want to do that?

I didn't give myself an answer as I finally started typing out the last words to the report.

When the door opened again, I _knew _it would be Edward. He didn't leave compliments like that without following up with an insult. His silence had to be followed by something cold and hostile. As if it took some emphasis away from anything nice he may have said. I heard a soft thud as he put something down on my desk, and then he left without saying another word. _Not even a casual insult, or a wanton compliment. _As I glanced up to see what he'd put on my desk, I saw my shampoo staring back at me, and a bright blue post-it note attached to it.

_Since you weren't going to let me smell your hair, I thought I'd buy what you use – Edward._

"You need to stop complimenting me so much," I called out towards his desk through the thin walls; knowing he could hear me. "Because I know you're just going to take it all back eventually."

"What makes you so sure?" The door opened so suddenly that he could have been standing outside. He was standing opposite me, leaning nonchalantly against the frame.

"What if I told you I'd arranged to see Mike again?" I questioned – my eyes bold. "Would you tell me I'm being stupid? Perhaps comment on my taste in men and say how ridiculous it was. And whilst you're at it, why don't you just give me another report to do?" I didn't look up to see his expression as I pressed the print button.

"Well... are you going to see him?"

"Perhaps," I turned back to the computer as I slipped off my work glasses. "Although, I don't see why it should be any of your concern. I mean... about who I choose to _date_." I smiled indulgently to myself as the realisation crossed his face at the meaning behind my words.

"Date?" he choked, his eyes widening with confusion.

"Are you going to take your compliments back yet?"

"Perhaps." He used my words from earlier. But they weren't said in the same teasing way I'd spoken them in. They were harsh and cold.

The machine next to me groaned as the last of the document I'd been writing finished printing. Then, I stapled the top – all eight pages of it, and handed it to Edward.

"Finished," I said with a sugary smile as I took my coat of the back of the chair. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going home early."

He raised his hand, not letting me past. "You really typed all of this up?" he questioned as he waved about the report.

_Give me a challenge, and I'm hardly going to back down. _I rolled my eyes. "No, those eight pages are filled with hate letters I wrote to you." And believe me, it wouldn't be hard to fill five thousand words of it. His expression was still confused and slightly bewildered, but as his eyes met mine, they were no longer angry, but... inquisitive? _I was definitely reading too much into his eyes. _I mean, it was just two black dots with a swirl of hazel and emerald and olive green mixed into one... _Bella. Stop it._

"Thank you," he murmured softly, his voice suddenly quiet and composed.

"Well, you're welcome." I moved towards the cupboard, hiding my blush as I turned away from him. _Fucking Cullen. _I wish he'd make up his mind about how he wanted to treat me. Like this – where he truly understood the work I'd put into it – he was almost bearable.

"I mean it, really. I'm grateful."

"I know, you said." I tried to sound angry, but with him standing beside me, sombre for a change, it was a hard feat. It was a new side to him I hadn't seen, and undoubtedly, a better one.

When I tried to pass him once more, he turned to me and put a hand on my shoulder. There were no traces of anger or teasing left in his eyes, and his expression was humourless. For once, he was being completely serious. "Don't date Mike."

I was expecting words for like – _I'm sorry about what happened earlier_. Or maybe even – _I'll be telling the boss about the work you've done. _But not something personal.

He had no right.

"What?"

"Don't date him... please, just don't." He was begging now.

"Why?" _Did he know something about Mike I didn't? _I tried to get past him once again, but the hand on my shoulder barely let me move more than a few inches.

"Please."

"Tell me why." At my demand, he shook his head quickly. As I glanced up to his face, I saw his eyes were closed – leaving his face unreadable.

"Don't date Tanya," I retorted, and his eyes opened once more, the anger no longer hidden.

"Tanya's my friend."

"So is Mike."

He shook his head once more. "It's not the same."

_I'd had enough. _I pushed his hand off my shoulder roughly. "Oh what, because I haven't _kissed _Mike? Is that the difference? That I don't _know _him well enough?" My gaze turned sour. "I'm allowed to have relationships outside of this office _Mr Cullen_."

"You haven't kissed him?"

"So what if I have? Why do you even care?" I demanded. We weren't friends. He didn't have the right to care. "This topic isn't any of your business, and you have some nerve asking me about it."

His mouth opened, as if to comment, but before he could, the elevator doors rang in the hallway and I used the opportunity to dart past him. Just before I reached the door, I heard his voice again.

"Bella," his voice came out as a strangled whisper. "Please... please don't."

It was the first time he'd called me _Bella_ to my face, and although he may not have realised it – although it may have merely been a slip, I noticed.

"Mr Cullen, I wish you'd stop telling me what to do." I kept my tone stiff and formal. He'd stepped over the line in bringing up Mike. As I strode into the hallway, I saw Mike standing beside the elevator, and my face broke into a warm grin. I'd never been happier to see him than right now.

"Mike! Are you leaving?"

"I was wondering if I could walk you down," he took a step towards me, his expression mirroring mine as he took his hands out of his pocket. I felt Edward brush past me, knocking my shoulder lightly as he moved back to his desk. A desk which was just inches from where Mike and I were standing.

"What's his problem?" Mike asked loudly to me.

"I think he just found out he's a woman, and he's struggling to get over PMS." I said seriously, my voice just as loud as Mike's. I wanted to make sure Edward could hear me. "It's the only plausible reason I can think of."

Mike laughed quietly, his eyes dancing. "So, do you have to leave now? Or could we pick up our conversation from where we left off?" For once, I didn't care that he wasn't my type. My anger overpowered that. Edward had told me not to date Mike. Well... that was exactly what I _wasn't _going to do.

"Sure," I smiled shyly, and I bit down on my lip as I held out my hand for him to take. All too willingly he took it, and as our palms touched, I moved a little closer, letting our hips touch. At the gesture, Mike's smile doubled, and he was no longer hesitant. He let go of my fingers and wrapped a hand around my waist.

"Miss Swan, do you listen to anything I say?" Edward called after me, and as I glanced over my shoulder, my eyes met his deathly gaze.

I don't know what made me do it. Honestly I don't. But as I saw his possessive glare staring back at me, thinking that he _owned _me, or some shit like that... well, there was only one thing I was going to do. Even if it meant regretting it later.

I turned slowly to Mike, before raising my face up to his and kissing him.

* * *

**AN - **Regret much? At the moment, Mike is like the Jacob of this story. Except without the werewolf traits, perverted imprinting and brotherly-turned-romantic feelings. I hope you're enjoying the plot so far, and if you have any questions - about the characters or the way their article-report-edit-publish system works or what happens when you die, drop me a review and I'll get back to you. Happy reading :D.

* * *

**Reviews = Cookies**


	3. Save Me the Bullshit

**Chapter 3**

**Save Me the Bullshit**

* * *

_Thursday, 8.20am_

Work.

Again.

Life was becoming a vicious cycle of writing mundane articles a high school student could have bashed out, and wasting precious brain cells in attempting to get Mike to stop staring at my ass which was tied in with the occasional argument with Edward. Then, it was topped off with a cold walk home in the rain to an empty house with empty food cupboards.

Remind me why I took a job in journalism?

As I stumbled into the office, bedraggled and exhausted that morning, I didn't greet Edward as I walked past him, let alone acknowledge he was even there. He didn't say anything either. I guess we'd reached a silent, mutual agreement.

We didn't get along together.

So why bother?

It was a comforting thought that we weren't talking. It made my day that much easier when I didn't have to deal with his pettiness. I sat down behind my desk and reached for the two files Edward had put on my desk, one from level three – _short staffed again, sorry_ – and the other was an article assigned to our level.

Today would be over soon, I reminded myself all too eagerly.

"Hey, is Isabella in yet?" Mike asked all too brightly from the foyer outside my office, and I resisted the urge to beat my head repetitively against my desk. No doubt Edward would have essays to say about Mike's choice of naming later.

Maybe if I closed my eyes and wished, he'd go away?

"No, she's not. Could I take a message perhaps?" Edward asked politely, but I could hear from the inside of his office that his words were stilted and forced.

I exhaled loudly and pushed the door of my office open, cutting off Mike's reply. I couldn't let him win this one again.

"Hey," I smiled timidly as Edward's face shot back into the array of files in his hand, his eyes darkening. Always acting as opposites, Mike's eyes brightened and he straightened up, no longer leaning against Edward's desk.

"Not in yet Cullen?" Mike teased gently as he moved across the office towards me.

Edward said nothing.

The corners of my mouth twitched upwards into a smile, and I beckoned him over with my fingers as I opened the door to my office a little. Cullen didn't own me, and if I wanted to have Mike Newton in my office, I was sure as hell going to have him there.

Of course, the slight flaw in my plan was that I _didn't _want him in my office.

But neither of them had to know that.

"Miss Swan, can I talk to you for a minute?" You didn't have to be a rocket scientist to work out who'd asked the question. The words were quiet and smooth, and yet coated in bitterness. They were formal – _Miss Swan_ – and still managed to sound decadently patronising.

I inclined my head, my eyes staying clear of his as I waited for his _words of wisdom_, or a lecture that resembled one my mother used to give to me before starting high school.

_Be safe, and make sure he's the one._

"You don't have to _use_ Mike just to provoke me." He paused, his voice cold. "You do a pretty good job of that on your own."

_Make sure he's the one? _My guess wasn't sounding too far off."Who said I was using him?" I questioned dryly. "It is actually possible for me to like him." I spelt out.

Before Edward could start lecturing me about the other half of my mother's talk, and God forbid that ever happen, I turned and walked straight into my office. He was doing exactly what he'd done yesterday, and maybe it was subconsciously, but I'd been using that in his defence for far too long now. He was trying to control me, and it was starting to really fucking get on my nerves.

Mike was waiting for me in my office, perched tentatively on my desk as he threw my sharpener up into the air before catching it. He wasn't unattractive, that much was obvious, and he was a decent guy. But as mum would've said, he couldn't be _my _guy.

"I see what you mean, Cullen really is hormonal." Mike said with a wink as he set my sharpener down on the desk and stood up straight once again. "He's too much fun when he's angry."

I laughed with him, knowing that Edward could hear us talking from outside. _There were no secrets on this level_. "Then we share something in common."

"So, I was thinking, if you're free that is," he stumbled over his words in a rush to say them all, and I cursed internally as I realised he was nervous. Nervous around me, and nervous to say whatever he wanted to say, usually meant that he liked me... a lot more than I wanted him to. "We could maybe go and grab another coffee?" As he finally finished his question, he shoved his hands deep into his pockets.

"I'd like that." I said tentatively, and his face lit up at my reply. It was just coffee... right?

"Well, as long as you don't have any work to do, or anything urgent that needs-"

I cut him off before he could finish. "Mike. Seriously." I grabbed my jacket off the back of my chair before walking back into the foyer. "Ready to go?"

He smiled sheepishly as I pulled him out of my office.

"Miss Swan," Edward stood up from his desk, and I laughed quietly to myself at the formality of my name once more. I should have known that he wouldn't have let me leave without saying something. I turned towards him, my hand still in Mike's. Then, I raised one eyebrow tentatively. "That report I placed on your desk, although it may not be _urgent_, needs to be completed and on my desk by lunchtime."

"I know." I turned to leave, but his voice called me back.

Who the hell did he think he was?

"I just wanted to make sure that you're clear of those terms."

"Why wouldn't I be?"

He pursed his lips, his eyes flickering towards Mike's hand – which was still wrapped around mine. "Coffee isn't always the best conditions for writing a report."

I smiled innocently back at him.

"Get a life Mr Cullen." I said calmly, before punching the ground floor button on the elevator and letting the doors close on Edward's frozen expression.

* * *

_Thursday, 9.15am_

"So," Mike said quietly, his voice confessional. "I wanted to talk to you... about _yesterday_."

It was inevitable that he'd bring it up. It was just a question of when and where. We'd been talking for the past fifteen minutes about our own days. Conversation had been light and easy, but I knew that he didn't want to talk about paper supplies running out or the receptionist with loose morals.

"What exactly did you want to talk about?" I dogged his statement with a question of my own. It was going to be awkward enough admitting to him why I'd kissed him.

He looked up from his drink, his eyes calm and accepting. "Did you mean it?" he asked simply. "I'll understand if you didn't."

If I told him that I kissed him to annoy Edward, that would imply that I wanted him to be jealous of me. But you only go to that extreme when you want to be noticed... or desired.

And the last person I wanted to be desired by was Edward.

I bit down on my lip. I wanted to choose my words carefully, because Mike was far too much of a decent guy for anything less. Whatever I said, it wasn't going to be a good reflection of the person I was.

"Edward's been on my case for a while now, and he specifically told me not to date you," I explained hurriedly. "I didn't mean to use you and I would take it back if I could, because in hindsight it wasn't fair to you at all. You're a nice guy Mike and I really like you as a friend. But I can't take it back, so, I'm sorry?"

I'd learnt a lot more in hindsight than simply _it wasn't fair to Mike_. I'd used him, just like Edward did with the secretaries.

He nodded slowly, a timid smile appearing on his face. "I'd guessed that's how you felt. I just didn't want to admit it to myself." He laughed quietly as he took a sip from his drink. Then he looked back up towards me, his expression changed. "But if you really want to piss Cullen off..." a sly, mischievous grin then spread across his face, replacing the previous half-hearted attempt at one. "Perhaps I could help?"

My mouth dropped. "Are you serious?"

"It's what you want, right?"

_Since when did I deserve a friend as decent as this? _ "Yeah, but I can't ask you to-"

He cut me off, his eyes dancing with amusement. "What doesn't he like?" he asked quickly, his enthusiasm almost contagious.

I smiled wickedly back at him. "When you call me Isabella," I pointed out obviously. "Or maybe we could shorten that to _Izzy_. I bet he'd _love _that." I paused, thinking of all the aspects of my life he'd tried to change or alter. My name was pretty high on the list.

"He doesn't like me dating anyone else... so maybe if he thought we were or something..." I didn't have any right to suggest that, considering everything I'd just admitted to Mike and how I'd used him yesterday.

But he just smiled reassuringly back at me, trying to break my uncomfortable expression. "Sure."

I drained the last of my coffee as Mike did the same opposite me. Then he stood up and offered me his arm like something out of English history.

"Are you ready to go and piss off Cullen _Izzy_?"

"I think I might be _Michael_."

* * *

_Thursday, 10.00am_

"_Mmm_," I pressed my lip to his cheek as we stood outside the elevator, his hands on my waist and mine around his neck, our bodies far too close to be just friends. "I'll see you later Michael."

"I'll miss you _Izzy_," he murmured back, his voice carrying across the office floor as he played along. I left him with a flirty smile as I sashayed back towards my office, making sure I let my hips swing. I'd been wearing a shirt that clung to my sides and the black shoes that Edward despised like they were a five thousand word essay he'd been set in college.

He was sitting at his desk, his mouth open in horror as he stared at me.

"You know," I laughed quietly to myself as I walked up to him. "As _tempting _as I may be, it's impolite to drool." I tucked my hair behind my ear before leaving him with a cheeky grin.

His mouth shut far quicker than I'd ever seen before, and his cheeks flushed red as he turned back to his computer screen.

* * *

_Thursday, 11.47am_

"Miss Swan, I need that report fairly soon." Edward's voice reminded me from the other side of the door as I pressed the print button and watched the machine suck the sheets of paper up. "The newspaper's going out at three."

I grabbed the freshly printed paper, taking care not to smudge the ink before opening the door of my office and setting the two articles down in front of him. "Why don't you just have both reports?" I asked dryly as his green eyes shot up towards me. "Seeing as you choose to give me yet another ridiculously long report to do from _God knows_ which department."

I leaned a little closer to him across the desk, remembering all too well that I'd left the top two buttons of my shirt undone. "Do you want to say why? Or am I just going to find another report on my desk every time I go on a _date_?"

His eyes widened, and his fingers froze on the keyboard. "You're... _dating_?"

"We've been through this more times than I would've liked. _Why do you care?_"

"I don't," he said nonchalantly, but his words were far too quick for me to believe them. "I don't care. I was just asking." He was flustered.

"Fine." I snapped as I straightened up and turned back towards my office. Every time I tried to understand him, or try to figure out his motives behind everything, I ended up going in circles. First he acts like my mother, telling me who to date and who to stay away from. Then he's a flustered, nervous wreck.

I wasn't _that _intimidating... was I?

"I care because Mike doesn't deserve you." His words were so quiet that I had to pinch myself that they were real. And why would they have been? He'd resented me from the moment I stepped foot into the foyer. He hadn't wanted me as his colleague, and he definitely hadn't wanted me as a friend. And now, all of a sudden, he _cared_ about me?

"Do you care enough to elaborate?"

He shook his head all too quickly as he turned his gaze away from me towards the window. "You just seem like an intelligent person," he said offhandedly, as his eyes flickered back towards the two reports on his desk.

"Are you saying Mike isn't intelligent?"

The silence after my question gave me all the answers I needed.

"Well Mr Cullen, I must say I'm flattered that you think I'm such a charitable, generous person in choosing to date someone who doesn't have the same intellectual capacities as me." I paused, struggling to keep my anger from showing on my face. "But unlike you, I'm not so shallow as to make that a reason to end things with them."

"Bella-"

It's _Miss Swan _to you asshole. "You need to either look in a mirror Mr Cullen, or go die in a hole." Then I turned on my heel, and marched straight into my office.

* * *

_Thursday, 3.40pm_

I swear, if his head got any bigger then he'd be the one falling off chairs.

He's so fucking condescending every time he opens his mouth, and so full of himself it's hard to believe he has any friends or family left at all to put up with him. I'd tried being nice and polite, and even civil at times when he'd done nothing but patronize me. And yet, I get the egoism and the arrogance right back in my face again.

_Save me the bullshit_. I wasn't listening to it anymore. I wasn't forcing myself to stand opposite him whilst he listed the faults in my life and where I was clearly going wrong. I didn't need a life guidance councillor.

There was only one person in this situation that needed the help of a therapist.

"Miss Swan, I just came to apologise and I didn't mean-"

"Shut up." I interrupted him as I slammed the file down in my hands against the desk, harder than I intended to. But even just the fact that he had the nerve to attempt to take back his words earlier sent alarm bells ringing in my ears. He was going to apologise now, and relieve his guilt. Then tomorrow, he'd start it all over again.

"No, please listen. I-"

"Shut up.

"Bella-"

"Get the fuck out of my office Cullen." I seethed, my hands moulding around the edges of my desk, wielding me to my place on the floor. If I'd moved, even just a few inches towards him, I wasn't sure how civil our argument would've been. "You have no right to call me _Bella_ and you have no right to judge _my _life and what I choose to do."

"Can I apologise?"

"No."

He pursed his lips, his eyes staring me down as if he were trying to find a weakness in my cold, stone-faced expression. "I looked in a mirror," he said quietly, his eyes still appraising my face.

"Like what you saw?"

He grinned cheekily. "I have to admit the guy staring back was rather attractive."

I rolled my eyes as I turned away from him and my desk. The window had misted up from the warmth inside, but I could still see a glimpse of the people passing on the pavement. I watched an elderly couple cross the road slowly, their hands interlocked. It made my life and all the bitterness in it seem pretty insignificant. "If that's all you have to say to me Mr Cullen, then I'd appreciate it if you could leave me alone. I have a report for level thirteen to write."

Then, so suddenly that the breath caught in the back of my throat, he was in front of me, his hands flat on my desk as he leant towards me, his green eyes staring intensely into mine. "I'm sorry." He said seriously, his eyes darkening with regret. "I didn't mean what I said, and I'm sorry that you took it as an insult."

"Okay," my voice sounded weaker than I wanted it too, and my cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He flashed me a grateful smile, his eyes now radiating with warmth as they met mine. Inside my chest, my heart stuttered and my cheeks burned a little hotter.

"I have to finish my report now." I said, all too quickly as I reached down for my work glasses and hurriedly slid them onto my nose.

"I have some work to do as well." He smiled once more as he slowly retreated out of my office, the smile never leaving his eyes.

"Goodbye Mr Cullen."

He paused, flashing one last beaming grin. "Goodbye _Bella_."

For once, I didn't correct him.

* * *

**AN - **It's chapters like these which make writing Edward's POV (The Colour of Love) so much fun. Opinions on Michael, Izzy and Eddie?

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**Reviews = Cookies**


	4. Lost Cause

**Chapter 4**

**Lost Cause**

* * *

_Thursday, 6.30pm_

I flung my keys on the table as I stumbled over the welcome mat of my small, box flat. The lights flickered on slowly, before the bulb in the kitchen plunged the room into darkness again.

"Great," I muttered to myself as I shrugged out of my jacket and left it on the floor behind me. In front of me, I could feel the sofa with my fingers and to the right, the lamp. So just a bit further to the right must be...

"Fuck." I said, louder this time, as my knee collided with the side of the coffee table. Luckily for me, it didn't take long to navigate where the switch on the lamp was. Balance wasn't a strong quality of mine, and the darkness certainly wasn't going to help.

The phone beeped once next to the lamp, and I pressed the message button as I ran my fingers through my hair, messy and dishevelled from the wind outside. I couldn't care less about my hair though. I was home, which meant no work, no grungy offices and more importantly, no Edward.

_You have one new message. _

_Sent at 4.54pm._

"Hi Bells, it's Charlie."

The sound of his voice made my muscles locked. Dad never called home. I spoke to him at Thanksgiving and the Christmas's I couldn't make. But that was it.

I wished we talked more. He'd give me some sanity in my life.

"The doctor said I had to call a family member, so here I am talking to your answer phone. I had a fall at work, nothing major, just a few broken bones and something else... I kinda tuned out of the gory details. But the Doc. says I'm going to be here for a few days. So if you're still coming down this Saturday, it'd be nice to see you then Bells. Just give me a call and I'll let you know where I'm being held prisoner."

He paused, a deep throaty cough sounding down the answer machine.

"Okay, Doc. needs me now. Speak to you soon Bells."

As the line went dead and the answer phone message finished, there was only one thing I could do. I jammed the numbers of his cell into the phone, my fingers winding around the lead impatiently. I wasn't even going to allow myself to consider the other possibilities that dad being in hospital could mean. It was _just _broken bones he'd said.

"Dad?" I asked quickly as soon as the receiver picked up the line on the other end.

"Oh, hey Bells," he croaked back, and I closed my eyes at the sound of his hoarse, rasping voice. That wasn't just broken bones. "I see you got my message and all."

My eyes flickered to the clock by the TV.

_Screw sleep_, I thought to myself. "Yeah I did dad, but listen, if I leave now and catch a train to Seattle, I'll be with you in a few hours and-"

"Bells, seriously." He cut me off. "It's late and dark outside, and you have work tomorrow."

"Work doesn't matter." The statement couldn't have been more truthful. It paid my bills and gave me something to do in the day. But family mattered. Work was just another insignificant necessary event in my life.

"That's sweet of you," he said kindly, his voice rasping. "But the Doc. here has me fixed up all right and says I'll be out in no time."

"Dad-"

"Bells, if you still want to come down and see me Saturday, then I'll give you directions. But you're not getting them now." He bargained. "I'm going to be fine."

I sighed in frustration as I dropped the phone lead from my fingers. "How sure are you about that?"

"Dead sure."

"Positive?"

I could almost picture him rolling his eyes down the phone at me, and the smile on his face that he would be trying so hard to hide. "I'll see you Saturday?"

"Of course you will." I promised as we said goodbye to each other before both hanging up. _He would be fine_. I promised myself once again. The sound of his voice that I'd heard down the broken phone line was nothing I needed to worry about.

I just wished he'd let me drive down this evening.

There were times when dad could be as stubborn as me.

* * *

_Friday, 8.05am_

The train journey to work was a quiet one, and that was partly due to the fact that I was finding it extremely difficult to stick to my promise. I had no incentive to go to work, other than the fact it helped pay my bills. I had no true friends there and no one that kept me going back each morning.

Regardless of what Edward liked to believe.

_You have now arrived on level twelve._

The elevator stopped and as the doors swung open, I tried to smooth out the creases of worry that had etched their way onto my forehead. I really didn't need his sympathy right now, let alone his derogatory comments.

I didn't even hear his few words of greeting as I passed him. Maybe I should've at least tried to communicate, but I doubted that I would've been able to say anything coherent.

On my desk, there was just one report.

I had been counting on Edward's usual three to keep my mind off other things, but typically, he always did the one thing I wished he hadn't. And that left me sitting behind my desk, my fingers drumming along the table as my mind drifted back to Charlie.

However much I tried not to, I couldn't help but picture him in a hospital bed, wires running in and out of him, monitors flashing beside him, and the image drifted around my mind, always going in circles... never leaving, or fading.

I'd tried to call the hospital on the way to work, but each time they gave me the same repetitive message. _He's sleeping_, or, _he's with the doctor, but he's doing just fine_.

I sighed, deciding to finally get on with writing the report in some vain hope that writing might take my mind off him. It would've done, even for only a brief hour... if it had been on a different topic.

The report was on the growing number of hospitalised patients and the lack of hospital beds, and as I flicked through the evidence, I found a table showing me the soaring numbers of 2008, compared to the dwindling, almost non-existent numbers of the year 1980.

"Mr Cullen," my voice sounded far shakier than I would've liked, as I opened my office door. He looked up, dropping whatever file he was looking through onto his desk and forgetting about it in an instant.

"Yes?"

"I can't do this report." I said quickly, my voice blunt as I thrust the report into his open hands. "If you want to give me extra reports, or any of your spare ones, or some from other levels, that's fine."

"Any reason why?" he asked quietly, and before he'd even finished his question I was shaking my head.

"Maybe I could do it in a week or so," I sidestepped. _Once I knew dad was going to be fine_. "But I doubt they'd give me an extension." I moved back towards my office timidly, hoping that for once, he wouldn't question me any further.

"Of course," he said genuinely as he flashed a curious, warm smile towards me. "Are you alright?"

I nodded quickly, not daring to speak as I spared him a short, attempt of a smile back, before turning back towards my office.

It only hit me when I sat down.

He hadn't insulted me. He hadn't flirted with me, or given me compliments he didn't truly believe in. He hadn't been angry that I was giving him a report back. More importantly than that though, he'd said _yes_, without hesitation.

I was beginning to like this new side to him.

* * *

_Friday, 4.25pm_

"Is this Miss Isabelle Swan that I'm taking to?" a strange, unknown voice asked down the phone. I'd been waiting for it to ring for the past three hours, hoping for some news from the hospital, because no matter how many times I called their receptionist, the news was always the same.

"Speaking," I replied as a frown formed across my forehead.

"I'm calling from a hospital in Seattle," the voice explained, and at the mention of the hospital, I lowered myself into my office chair and pulled my glasses off my nose. "It seemed your father was transmitted to us just now and he wanted me to call you."

"Is he alright?" I demanded, my eyes widening.

On the other end of the line, there was a pause. The voice inhaled deeply, as though he were preparing to tell me news I didn't want to hear. My face paled. "Your father suffered from a heart attack this morning."

My blood turned cold.

That short, terrifying sentence made my knees buckle, and my fingers tightened around the armrest of my office chair. Time around me seemed to slow and as my eyes closed, I tried to concentrate on the sound of my own breathing. But I couldn't even breathe. My lungs felt trapped, like a large heavy weight was pressing down upon them. I couldn't hear, and as I tried to open my eyes to the blinding light of my office I couldn't even see.

_A heart attack._

"How serious?" I wasn't sure how I had the ability to ask a coherent question, but somehow, the words pushed past my lips in a choked whisper.

The doctor's voice was quiet and gentle. "I'm sorry Miss Swan. We're doing everything we can at the moment to save him."

I managed a hoarse _thank you_ before the phone slipped between my fingers, bouncing off the hard lanolin floor and I sank down underneath my desk. With my back pressed against the cold wood, I wrapped my arms tightly around myself, feeling my heart throbbing inside of me as my shirt dampened with my own tears.

_We're doing everything we can..._ That's what doctors told you when things didn't look good and when to them, their patient just seemed like a lost cause.

I'd always told him not to eat so much red meat.

The door of my office opened slowly, and I cursed under my breath as Edward stared back at me, the tears only falling faster. Of all the days he chose to listen in through the thin walls of my office...

"What do you want?" I asked bitterly as I hastily tried to push the tears away from my eyes. _My father was dying_ _and he'd probably come in to ask if he could borrow some paper. _It all seemed so stupid.

He opened his mouth, his eyes wincing as he saw the tears falling down his face. Then, he closed his mouth again, not saying a word.

"My dad is dying in a hospital that is hours away from here," I whispered, and I bit down on my bottom lip quickly to stop it from trembling. "There is _nothing _that you can say to me."

_For once, he listened._

I scrunched my eyes tightly together as I hugged my knees closer to my chest and buried my head deep into the cradle of my arms. I heard the door close softly, and I no longer tried to hide the sobs I'd forced down.

Then, a pair of arms wrapped around me slowly, pulling me against a body, and I looked up, seeing Edward's face through my tears.

* * *

_Friday, 5.15pm_

He stayed with me, waiting until my eyes had no more tears to shed and my throat was so dry that crying was physically impossible. I didn't understand why he did, or why he had the patience to stay.

But in a way, I was glad.

He sat beside me, pushing tissue after tissue towards me, and his body was warm and comforting against mine. His shirt smelled nice.

I needed silly things like his cologne to distract me.

I knew I had to get out of the office and to the hospital where Charlie was. But there were far too many things stopping me. They said they were doing _all they can_. But here in the office, I still knew he was alive. My reality hadn't been ripped apart by my own father dying, and I could pretend, just for a short delusional moment, that everything was going to be alright. Here in the office, regardless of what had happened at the hospital, I knew he was alive.

"Why are you doing this?" I asked finally as I cleared my throat, my voice rasping.

His eyes, thoughtful for a moment, stared calmly back into mine, and he offered me a kind smile. "I don't want you to have to do this alone," he squeezed my shoulder gently. "And because I like holding you." He added sheepishly.

"No more crackpot jokes?" I raised my eyebrows.

"I was, _for once_, being truthful." He winked. Then, he pulled himself up from underneath the desk before offering me his hand.

I put mine in his, his skin soft against my own as he pulled me to my feet, dangerously close to his own body. For some unknown, God-forsaken reason, I _blushed_.

"Can you deal without me this afternoon?" I asked hurriedly as I turned my face away from his and reached for my coat. The only reason I'd blushed was because I was emotionally vulnerable, I told myself quickly. "If you get any late reports through, I'll do them Monday, or work on them in the evening, and if, maybe-"

"Bella," he stopped me from rambling by resting his finger against my lip. "Go to your father."

If I'd been blushing before about his hand in mine, his finger on my mouth certainly wasn't helping. He moved his fingers to my hair, pushing it back behind my ear.

_I didn't need any of this right now_. I took a step away from him, offering him a weak smile. _His touch shouldn't feel that good_.

I needed to see Charlie.

"Thank you," I mumbled, forcing my thoughts into some form of coherence. He smiled brightly back at me as he passed me my bag. His eyes, now a deep mellow green, were soft, and for the first time since I'd met him, I saw an emotion that I hadn't ever expected to see. _Compassion._

He smiled one last time. "He'll be fine."

I nodded gratefully as I offered him, what I'd hoped, was a convincing smile in return. "I hope so." Then I turned away from him towards the elevator doors.

* * *

_Friday, 8.50pm_

"I'm here to see Charlie Swan," I said to the receptionist, as I hovered impatiently beside her desk, my fingers drumming along the wood. Her manicured nails flicked through the files, and as she turned her head back towards me, her faultless hairstyle rippled with the movement.

"Room forty one," she said in a clipped tone, following it up with a tight smile. "Up the stairs, turn right and then it's two doors down on the left."

I was already moving towards the stairs before she'd finished speaking, and I offered a quick thank you over my shoulder as I raced up the stairs, taking two at a time. My pace slowed as I got closer to room forty one, doubt rising in my stomach as to what I'd find in the room.

The very fact that he was in a room and not in a morgue somewhere gave me a flicker of hope.

I knocked gently against the door and within a few seconds it opened and a doctor, with light blonde hair, green eyes and a pure white lab coat, stepped outside, his eyes fixed on me curiously.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm here to see my dad," I explained quickly. "I'm Bella Swan, Charlie's daughter." Then I waited for him to elaborate on exactly what state my father was in. I hadn't dared call the hospital on the train journey up to ask.

He shut the door of Charlie's room behind him, and touching my arm gently, he pulled me to the side of the corridor. _So I wasn't allowed to see him? _Before I could ask, the doctor sat down on a bench in the corridor and gestured for me to sit beside him.

As I took my seat hesitantly, he finally turned to me.

"Your father's very weak Bella," were his first words, and I nodded stiffly, biting my lip. _Weak was better than dead._ "Excluding the three broken ribs, a broken leg and a slipped disk in his spine, his heart's been extremely strained through his years in the police force." The doctor offered a kind smile between his words. "We don't know yet whether his heart attack was a one off or whether it's likely to happen again. But for the time being, we want to keep him here, just to be on the safe side."

"He's going to be okay?" it was the obvious question that I had to ask. On the journey up, my mind had been running through all the possibilities of what could've happened to him, and the fact that the doctor hadn't announced him the lost cause I'd feared they would made me breathe a sigh of relief.

The doctor nodded seriously. "He should be awake within the next few hours, so if you want to wait, I'm sure he'd appreciate a visit from his daughter." Then, he added with a smile, "there's a sofa inside and I'm sure it'd be far more comfortable than a plastic hospital bench."

I smiled thankfully back as I stood up and took a step towards his door. Taking a deep breath, I pushed it open gently.

The first thing to hit me was the strong stench of hospital fluids and equipment.

But the second and more frightening thing was the picture of Charlie.

He was lying opposite me, unresponsive and coma-like as a monitor beeped repetitively next to him. Above it was a sack containing a white fluid and a transparent tube fed out from the bottom, running towards his lifeless body and piercing his wrist.

I raised my hand to my mouth, forcing myself to bite back my tears as I took another step towards him. Charlie had always been a strong figure in my life. He was the one that picked me up from the mud when I used to fall down, or help plaster up a scraped knee. He helped me buy my first apartment and he taught me how to drive, and now he was like this?

He'd always seemed so indifferent about his health, thinking that the amount of steaks he ate didn't matter, and that life was too short to worry about what it did to his heart.

I guess time caught up with him.

* * *

_Saturday, 4.50am_

"Renee?" Charlie asked groggily as his eyes flickered open, and his fingers twitched beside his side. From my position on the sofa, half dozing, half dreaming, I shot up toward his bedside, instantly awake.

"Dad, can you hear me?" I took his outstretched hand in mine. "Dad?"

"Renee?" he said again, confused as his eyes struggled to absorb the harsh light of the monitors.

"No dad, it's _Bella_." I reassured him as I patted his hand gently. I knew all too well that Renee was probably currently sat on some balcony of a sunny villa in Phoenix with her boyfriend, Phil. When I was younger, I'd told myself that my parents were perfect for each other. But in hindsight, Renee wasn't someone that would sit down with Charlie and eat a steak over dinner. Likewise, Charlie wasn't the man that had time for Renee's erratic nature.

"_Bella_," he said my name slowly, his breathing shallow as he clung onto my hand tighter. His fingers trembled against my own. "You didn't have to come and see me."

"Don't be stupid, of course I'd come and see you." I retorted back with a smile, and the left side of his face pulled up into a lopsided smile in return. Then, his grip on my hand loosened and his arm fell back down to his side.

"Thanks Bells," he whispered, before his head lolled back onto the pillow, and his eyes closed shut with the lure of sleep.

* * *

_Saturday, 8.10am_

"Mike?" I asked in surprise as I picked up my phone and heard his voice down the other end of the line.

"Hey Bella," he called cheerily back as I stood up and stepped outside of Charlie's room for a moment. "I just wanted to check that you were alright. Cullen said you'd gone home early yesterday when I went to see you."

"I'm fine thanks." _Edward didn't lie to Mike?_

"On the topic of Cullen," I could hear the smile in his voice already. "I've been thinking, and I've come up with some new plans that would really push his buttons, and-"

"Mike," I interrupted him, not meaning to be rude. "I'm sorry but I can't be part of that anymore."

"Why?" his question was blunt, and I could almost imagine him reminding me that _it was my idea_.

"_I'm _okay," I clarified uncertainly. "But my dad's not, and Edward was in the office when I found out." Honesty always was the best policy. "He was really nice about it, and I guess I feel... I don't know, maybe I should cut him some slack." Mike paused shortly and when he finally answered, I could hear the regret in his voice.

I bit my lip. "Listen, you've bought me a drink, so now it's my turn to. How about we meet up next week and go grab a drink?"

The tip I'd learnt with Mike is that it didn't take much to get him back on your side, and when he answered, the smile was in his voice again. I ended our conversation shortly after, not wanting to stay away too long from Charlie, and as I sat down beside his bed, my feet tucked under my knees, I finally let my eyes slip close.

_If only life's problems could be solved over a cup of coffee._

* * *

**AN - **What do we think of the new Edward? Impressed like Bella, or sceptical that he's just going to slip back to who he was? As always, reviews are very much appreciated :P. Writing a story with constant feedback from you is a privilege I will never be able to take for granted.

* * *

**Reviews = Cookies**


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